


Smooth Criminal

by kiritila



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting to Know Each Other, Hiatus, M/M, Musical References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Stakeout, Stargazing, cause i'm musical trash, could be considered a b99 au??, keith is very gay, keith's father is not cool, lance is oblivious to keith's pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-04-29 19:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiritila/pseuds/kiritila
Summary: Keith's past has led him to Brooklyn's most wanted list. He doesn't want to be there; he wants a normal life. He only continues to commit his crimes now that a cute cop has been assigned to his case.Lance is one of the NYPD's best detectives, despite being on the force for less than a year. He's been assigned to a huge case, and the person who he needs to arrest is his self-proclaimed rival.Lance isn't particularly happy when said criminal gets assigned to a stakeout with him after his arrest, so that they can take down one of the biggest drug networks his precinct has ever seen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, i've gotten all my knowledge from binge-watching brooklyn nine-nine, so don't expect this to be too accurate because i'm british, so the law systems are pretty different as far as i can see. i apologise in advance, i wrote this instead of sleeping. i'll try and upload as often as i can, but i don't have an upload schedule as of yet (scrap that updates will be rEALLY sporadic cause of school n all that jazz)
> 
> lmao this probably has so many typos cause i don't have a beta reader but oh well
> 
> **slight trigger warning all the way through for mentions of drugs and verbal abuse, as well as some slight descriptions of violence. stay safe y'all.**

Keith took a long drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke that escaped his smooth, plump lips curl up towards the grey sky. Somewhere, a long way away from his world, a clock struck eleven. He silently counted the clangs, staring down at the grimy ground. The alleyway that Keith was currently stood in wasn't ideal - trash spilled out of metal cans and the soiled bricks left dark marks on Keith's jacket that wouldn't be coming out anytime soon. Rats and cats skulked around the piles of trash, and sirens wailed from all directions nearby. Keith hated it - but it got the job done.

As he fingered a small wrap in his pocket, he cast his gaze towards the alleyway's entrance, deep violet eyes narrowing as a hunched, shady figure approached him. He looked around him nervously before skittering over to Keith, face twitching and wide-eyed. Keith scowled, disgusted by his customers. He threw his smouldering cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heavy boot. Brandishing the wrap, he watched as the other man eyed it up eagerly. Keith began to toy with it, twirling it between his slender fingers. He slid his other hand out of his pocket and beckoned with it.

"Money first." Keith's voice was surprisingly smooth for a heavy smoker; it was like honey. The second fumbled around for a moment, before dropping a wad of bank notes into Keith's outstretched palm. He hesitated for a second and then held out the wrap, which the second man impatiently grabbed with dirty, calloused fingers. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the darkened alley, looking like he was trying to be conspicuous.

Keith sighed and shook his head, pulling a disgusted face as he wiped the hand that had come into contact with the others on his jeans. He withdrew it and began to run a finger over the bank notes, counting them. He looked tired and lackadaisical, not feeling any sort of happiness or pleasure over the amount of money he had just earned; instead a sick feeling settled in his stomach. He lit another cigarette, cradling it between his fingers like it was a pearl necklace, or his last grip on reality.

\---

Lowering the heavy binoculars from his striking blue eyes, Lance reached for his radio and let out a low chuckle. He'd never been this close, and now, after many months burning the midnight oil, victory was so close that he could almost touch it.He clicked the small button on the side of the black box and moved it towards his mouth. Rooftop surveillance was always fun. The wind in his hair, the views of Brooklyn - Lance lived for it.

"Guess what, Pidge? I got Mullet. It's almost like he wanted to be seen, chilling in a dump like this." He placed the radio back onto the tiles and picked up the binoculars again, peering through them intensely while a voice came through the radio.

"Lance, you promised to stop giving the suspects stupid nicknames. Just tell us when we can go in." a female spoke, sounding uninterested. Maybe she was bored of her job, or it might have been Lance's utter idiocy.

"Ugh, fine but know this: the elusive Keith Kogane, wanted drug dealer at 20 years old and my biggest rival ("Don't forget certified badass," added Pidge), has a mullet. And yeah, I know that people like them - no idea why - but Lancey-Lance knows best, and I say 'nuh-uh, mullets are terr-"

"LANCE!" multiple voices chorused, clearly agitated and annoyed.

"Jeez, okay... 1, 2, 3... go, go, go!" Lance instantaneously attached his radio to his belt and dropped his binoculars, scrambling for his pistol as officers below him stormed the alleyway. He let out a cry as Keith turned swiftly on his heel and vaulted a fence, easily putting distance between himself and the pursuing officers - Lance's greatest fear at that moment. Lance leapt from the rooftop and to a small balcony on the wall of the alleyway, before dropping himself the same side of the fence as his arch-rival. He sprinted after Keith, staying hot on his trail.

All this time. All this time, Lance had dreamed of this moment. Every time Keith's case hit a dead end Lance would envision how their final meeting would go. Sometimes it would be in a bar, sometimes it was on Brooklyn Bridge. Sometimes it would be a wild gunfight, sometimes it was a civil conversation. But, it always ended with Keith in handcuffs, being marched off to prison by Lance to be locked up for a very, very long time.

Keith dodged and diverted, Lance following and yelling a mix of standard protocol and catty one-liners that he'd rehearsed and perfected in front of the mirror in preparation for this moment.

"NYPD!"

"Turn around Kogane, and look me in the eye, or are you too chicken for that?"

"NYPD, drop your weapon!"

"Hey, are you running back to the seventies, Kogane, 'cause that's where your hair's from!"

"You're under arrest!"

"Oh, you do _not_ play dirty with _me_ , Kogane!"

Keith angrily pushed through swarms of people; Lance beginning to lag behind slightly. Then at quite a distance from their starting point, Keith turned his head. Dark, raven hair whipped around the edges of his round, porcelain face as he smirked and short a wink at Lance. He ducked around a corner as Lance slowed, his face turning red - not from embarrassment, but from something _else_ he'd never felt before. His mouth formed into a small 'o'. Suddenly, he blinked and violently shook his head, and began to speed up after Keith, but it was too late - Keith had disappeared.

Punching a nearby wall, Lance let out a scream to the heavens. He didn't care about how his knuckles had split and started to bleed - or how tight his chest was after pursuing Keith for so long. He didn't care about 'good police conduct', all he cared about was arresting _him_.

"I'll find you, Kogane! I'll get you, and I'll leave you and your stupid mullet to rot in a jail cell! i'm gonna get you locked up for a long time! Me! ¡Soy Lance McClain, recuerda ese nombre porque cuando estés en la cárcel te perseguirá!" Lance rested his forehead against the dirty brick, trying to catch his breath. He completely ignored Pidge and Hunk - his best friends and colleagues - when they came to congratulate his efforts, which was something Lance usually revelled in. He couldn't shake that expression from his head, that... look Keith had shot at Lance. He could barely concentrate on uniformed officers, seniors and his fellow detectives asking him questions, until he sat on the ground to gather his thoughts.

Pidge, the girl from the radio, handed Lance a water bottle and collapsed beside him, taking a swig of her own drink. _It's probably vinegar_ , thought Lance, grimacing slightly.

"Hey, you were actually pretty impressive out there today!" Pidge piped up. She punched him lightly in the arm, grinning madly. Lance took at sip of his drink and chuckled at the girl.

Pidge. Katie. Whatever people called her, it didn't matter. She was mysterious and cryptid, but also a legend. Nobody in the entire precinct, let alone the task force, knew how old Pidge was, or how she had gotten the job, but they preferred it that way. Despite her short stature, wild tan bob and large round glasses, she could be really intimidating. She was an amazing cop, notorious prankster and incredibly, incredibly intelligent.

"Yeah, dude, you were unstoppable! For a second, I thought you were going to rugby tackle Keith to the ground when you dropped from that balcony." Hunk sat down beside Lance and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Hunk Garrett. Lance's best friend. They had met at training, and since then they had been almost inseparable. He had a heart of gold, never failing to brighten up someone's day with a simple smile. He was an amazing chef, too, who could recreate even some of the most difficult recipes perfectly. Like Pidge, he was an excellent detective. He had a brilliant mind that he would constantly use in cases, but sometimes he would use it for more... ridiculous things. Like the robot that jumped out of the supply cupboard when you opened it. That was all Hunk. And Pidge. Oh, and in Lance's opinion, he gave great hugs.

Lance hummed a response but didn't look at either of them. He was still contemplating _that face_. He was the 99th precinct's best detective, and even he couldn't solve this mystery.

\--- 

Keith leaned against the wall and exhaled a sharp breath. He hadn't had to run for that long before. Keith was quick, but Lance was catching up. Soon he'd be caught. Not that it would matter. Keith's situation was already worse than what prison was rumoured to be like.

He moved his palms to his pale face and buried them deep into the smooth skin. Keith let out a loud, long groan - as if he was ashamed with himself. He slid down the wall and threw his hands over his sharp knees, resting his head on the brick behind him.

"God, he's even cuter than I remember," he muttered, cheeks beginning to turn a lightly dusted pink colour. Keith couldn't go on like this, especially in his current circumstances, but it was so hard _not to_. 

"I'm in this deep, aren't I? Crushing on the guy who's trying to arrest me!" he halfheartedly chuckled. Every time, Keith tried to forget, but it wasn't as easy as that. He began to fiddle with a loose thread on his old, worn jacket, catching his breath from the near miss with the law. Keith screwed his eyes shut but he couldn't shake Lance's face from his mind; his upturned nose, his smooth, tan skin... and those striking blue eyes. Keith then tried focusing on making imaginary-Lance smile, but he couldn't. His face morphed into expressions of anger, enraged at Keith. He was still pretty though. His eyes snapped open, face now crimson. Keith let out another loud groan and slammed his head against the wall.

"Ugh, I'm awful!"

"What's troubling ya, Kogane?" Large, heavy boots approached him. Keith looked forward and angrily narrowed his eyes, sliding a hand into a pocket carefully sewn to the inside of his jacket, where he gripped the smooth handle of a knife. It was short and stubby, but still sharpened to a point, so it could inflict some serious damage if this _lunatic_ decided to pull any tricks.

"What do you want, Rolo?" spat Keith "You know I don't get involved with you and the others anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but you're still a friend and I was worried." Rolo sneered with mock concern, angering Keith further. He stuck out an unnaturally pale and bony band, which Keith gladly refused in favour of pushing himself up off the ground. He shoved past Rolo and stalked towards the bustle of the city, wanting to get away because he didn't want to associate with the likes of _him_. 

"Hey, don't you walk away from me, Kogane!" Rolo ran after him and clapped a hand sharply on his shoulder and yanking him backwards. Keith whipped his head around and shot Rolo a murderous stare, before grabbing the wrist of the offending hand, twisting it around Rolo's body and pinning it against the middle of his back with eerily accurate precision. He shoved Rolo against the wall and with his free hand brandished his knife, polished to perfection with a striking purple jewel encrusted just below the blade. He brought the blade up to Rolo's thin neck, pressing it in slightly to make a small cut, but not enough to cause permanent damage. Keith would be dead if he killed Rolo, given his status. He leaned forward slightly, over Rolo's shoulder, and put his lips to his ear.

"Don't touch me."

Keith let him go and gave him another shove for good measure, before starting to casually walk towards the light. Safety.

"He'll never love you back, Kogane." Rolo, smirked, causing Keith stop in his tracks - horrified.

"W-What are you talking about?"

"I know you like him. The cop. And if you keep planning your meetings right in his patch, you're gonna get caught. I know your father wouldn't like that, would he, Keith?" He stiffened at the mention of his father. Rolo's voice was sickly sweet, but Keith recognised the underlying threat his tone held.

Rolo continued "And if you think that you'll get to live out this little love story you seem to have thought out for yourselves, think again. He'll never love someone as broken as you, especially 'cause you're a criminal. You're going to jail for a _long_ time, Kogane, and nobody loves a criminal - especially not a cop. You've done this to yourself, and now you've gotta pay the price."

"You d-don't know what you're s-saying." Keith's voice was shaking.

"'Course I do. You're too obvious, Kogane." Rolo waved a skeletal, emaciated hand and turned on his heel, stalking into the darkness and leaving Keith alone in the alley.

 _No, it can't be true_. Keith thought, _Maybe it is, actually. I'm a criminal, and he's a cop. We're meant to hate each other. We're not meant to be together. It's not meant to happen._

Keith put his knife away into his pocket and shoved his hands in his pockets, making his way down the bustling street and pushing angrily at the large crowds of people. He wanted to be a part of this world. A world where he could actually be happy. Not this life. Keith wouldn't wish it on anyone. He cursed himself for ever thinking he had a shot with Lance. Hell, he'd never even spoken to him. And he'd only learnt his name after one previous run-in, where a senior officer shouted his name while Lance was frustratedly searching for Keith, who was hiding out behind a fence. Waiting. Listening. 

Keith knew nothing about the tanned boy, and couldn't work out _how_ he had managed to fall for him. All he knew was that he managed it somehow; and that he had fallen _hard_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **¡Soy Lance McClain, recuerda ese nombre porque cuando estés en la cárcel te perseguirá!** \- I'm Lance McClain, you'd better remember that name because when you're in jail it'll haunt your dreams!  
>  (despite studying spanish for 3 and a half years, my first language is english and i'm not fluent in the language, so had to use a translator, so please correct me if the spanish is wrong! this also goes for any spanish in future chapters)
> 
> check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)
> 
> my twitter: @rainylance  
> my tumblr: @its-planetonic  
> my amino (voltron, klance, hamilton): @planetonic
> 
> everything on here is also posted on my wattpad too, which seems to hate me a little less: @_planetonic


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, just to make this clear, shiro and keith don't know each other, and they have never met before this.
> 
> i know, i love broganes but i didn't know how to integrate it well enough into the story without having overlapping plot points.

Lance let out a loud groan and slammed his head sharply on the keyboard. The keys clattered loudly and Lance's desk shook with the force, pens shaking in their pot and coffee splattering over the smooth grey surface.

"Shiro!" he yelled, voice slightly muffled.

"What is it now, Lance?" Shiro shouted from across the precinct, exasperation underlying his tone.

Takashi Shirogane. The one and only. Best detective in all of Brooklyn, until an awful accident while undercover a few years ago meant he had to retire from the front-line full time. Now he was the 99th precinct's sergeant, strong, stable and unswayed by almost anything. His year undercover, which was still largely a mystery to his task force, had changed Shiro, but otherwise he was still kind and caring. 

"Why are you giving all this work to me?" Lance said, flopping back in his chair and tipping his head back, "I just got back. Cut me some slack!" Shiro pushed himself up from his desk and made his way over to Lance. 

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You've done an amazing job keeping up with Keith for so long, and I'm sure you'll get him eventually." Shiro rested a comforting hand on Lance's shoulder, and despite it being his cold, metal prosthetic right arm it felt warm and full of life. Lance opened his mouth to respond, his eyebrows furrowed and looking disappointed.

"But I let Mullet get away!"

Shiro chuckled and turned on his heel, heading back to his desk after scooping up the disappointingly small pile of completed paperwork off Lance's desk, "Mullet? Is that what we're calling Keith now? I've seen your file, he doesn't even have a mullet, Lance."

"He totally has a mullet, Shiro, so we're sticking with it. And I bet he doesn't have to do this much paperwork." Lance sat upright again and picked up his pen, glaring at the ominous pile of papers on his desk. His eyes kept darting over to the thick case file tucked towards the far edge of the tabletop, the case file that held Keith's case. Lance had been chasing him for so long that it felt like he would never get him; like an unrealistic dream a child might hold. Like becoming a handsome prince, the power of flight, or travelling to the far reaches of the universe.

"I'm sorry, Lance, pass some over to Hunk if you really want to." the tired tone was returning to Shiro's voice.

"Hey, no fair! I'm up to my neck in paperwork! I don't want any more, I have something very, very important to do later and I do not want to be held up by more paperwork!" Hunk lifted his head, looking disgruntled and pointing a pen in Lance's direction.

"Oooh, are you going to see your _girlfriend?_ " Pidge cooed, but strangely her voice was echoing from the ceiling.

"Pidge, she is _not_ my girlfriend. Shay is a good friend, and in fact I am going to see her as a friend. Platonic! And please, come out of the vents, you know I hate it when you do that! What if you fall? I'll-" With a loud 'thunk', Pidge dropped from the ceiling, muttering angrily. Lance turned around as she passed, and whispered in her ear:

"Platonic my ass," which caused Pidge to snort loudly and fumble with her laptop.

"Anyway Shiro, I think I'll pass. Lance McClain is going to make this precinct rise from the ashes by doing this paperwork all by myself!" Lance rose from his desk and stood on his chair, addressing everyone in the room - who all looked bored and as if they were used to events like this.

"That's not how this works-" Shiro started halfheartedly.

"Don't rob me of this, Shiro! I'm officially this precinct's only hope!" Instantaneously, a door slammed open and angry yelling ensued, causing Lance to jump out of his skin. He whipped his head around to observe what was happening; upon realising someone was struggling against a uniformed officer. They were restraining against the confines of the handcuffs. He sprinted across the smooth, tiled floor to where the scuffle was happening. Other officers leapt into action, including Hunk and Pidge.

Suddenly Lance stopped short. People rushed past him in a flurry towards the tussle, seemingly oblivious to his stoic stature, motionless on the spot - eyes wide in consternation. The person who was struggling suddenly looked up - and froze. He panted heavily and stared at Lance; raven hair settling down after being stuck up wildly. Lance blinked, and was finally able to process who was currently stood before him.

Keith Kogane.

Lance's striking blue eyes met Keith's large violet ones, and it was if they were frozen in time, in their own little world. Everyone resumed their routines, ignoring the way that Lance was stood still - an event that would've usually amused his friends and colleagues. Eventually, he found the courage to speak up.

"W-What are you doing here?" Lance stuttered. Keith let out a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes, but quickly smirked.

"I'm a wanted criminal. Like, seriously, you almost arrested me three hours ago." The 'almost' caught Lance off-guard and he snapped out of his trance.

"I know _that_ , you ass!" Lance yelled, face contorting in anger. He relaxed, and turned to the officer holding Keith.

"Take him to the interrogation room, I'll be there in a minute. I'm gonna grab my stuff." the officer nodded and carted Keith away. Lance stalked back to his desk and collapsed into the sleek black chair that accompanied it; still in complete shock. He retrieved the thick file from the edge of his desk and pushed his incomplete paperwork to the side, gathering other snippets of paper and an assortment of pens and, now lukewarm, coffee. He put them into a pile and leaned back in his chair, muttering under his breath.

"I can't believe it..." All of a sudden Lance leapt up and barrelled across the room. He jumped like a madman and began to whoop and yell, chuckling loudly and pulling up Pidge and Hunk with him. They smiled madly, happy for their friend, especially knowing the struggle that Lance had gone through to build up a case of this size against Keith. In the time that they had known Lance, his skills as a detective had gone from strength to strength, and no-one in the precinct was as proud as Hunk and Pidge in that moment.

"We got him, my dudes!"

During this wild and frantic celebration, Lance was completely oblivious to the longing stares Keith was shooting in his direction as he was forcefully shoved to the interrogation room, wishing that they could've met under different circumstances, in a different way, in a _better_ way. 

\---

Keith felt like the four grey walls surrounding him were closing in on him with every second that passed. He diverted his gaze to the single bulb above his head; it threatened to flicker out, much like Keith's hope of ever being free from his father. He watched, fascinated, as it gleamed in a state of disrepair. Unable to move his hands (they were handcuffed to a metal bar in the centre of the table), Keith took to tapping his large boot on the cold concrete floor, letting the loud echo take over all his senses.

He was snapped back to reality when Lance thundered into the room, slamming a huge case file onto the metal table in front of him. He looked slightly irate, but his expression was mostly a smug, toothy grin. Keith blew upwards in an attempt to fluff up his bangs, and move them out of his eyes at the same time - since he was incapable of doing it at that current moment. He began to watch Lance intently as he paced around the room. He swallowed nervously, praying that a red flush wasn't spreading across his pale cheeks. _Damn, he's hot when he's focused_ , thought Keith, letting his mind wander for a second.

Suddenly, Lance brought his palm down sharply on the table, causing Keith to flinch and snap back to reality.

"I _know_ you're guilty, Kogane! I've been grinding your case for, like, forever, so there's no point in denying _anything_!" Lance was crazy, making wild gesticulations and his voice quickly ascending in volume.

"One year."

"W-What?" choked Lance, shaking his head rapidly and training his focus on Keith.

"You've been after me for just under a year, not forever. But I'm impressed - judging by that file it looks like you managed to get my life story in that time. Kudos, detective." Keith smiled, slightly suggestively. Lance gawked for a moment; but his expression quickly shifted to frustration.

"Don't play games with me, Kogane! I'm going to make it my business to to get a confession out of you and get you convicted, I don't care how long it takes!"

"Wow. You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"It's my job, of course I'm-hey, d-don't change the subject! O dios mio, this is gonna take a while." Lance pinched his nose, breathing heavily and sounding exasperated.

"Right. Fine - okay, I'm not gonna hide anything. I don't play 'games', as you put it. Convict me of whatever you want, I'm not gonna deny it. Hell, I probably did it." Keith said flatly. His heart picked up the pace as he prepared himself for Lance's answer. He hesitated, which caused Keith to clench his fists anxiously. He didn't see Lance eye up his balled fists, and then continue.

"Jeez, I, uh, didn't think it'd be _that easy_." Lance was quiet and more reserved now, like a raging fire that had been controlled and contained. 

"My life's gone downhill, I don't see any point in denying it." Keith took in a sharp intake of breath; uncomfortable with the situation at hand. He regretted letting down his walls - especially to Lance - but he wanted to turn around, use this opportunity to try and steer clear of jail as long as he possibly could.

And spend time with Lance before he was isolated from him for what would seem like forever.

Keith gulped, overwrought, and opened his mouth, his eyes darting erratically around the dim room.

"I, um, crave a boon!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh snap keith
> 
>  **O dios mio** \- Oh my God (roughly translated)
> 
> check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)
> 
> my twitter: @rainylance  
> my tumblr: @its-planetonic  
> my amino (voltron, klance, hamilton): @planetonic
> 
> everything on here is also posted on my wattpad too, which seems to hate me a little less: @_planetonic


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma pull thru and add more musical references soon, but my brain has too many tabs open so i need to think of some more.

"I, um, crave a boon!"

Lance snapped to attention. Processing the words that just came out of Keith's mouth, his expression contorted into one of annoyance and anger. His eyes blazed as he pursed his lips, looking Keith dead in the eye. Alarm bells in his head began to blare, telling Lance - warning him not to trust him.

"What boon?" he spat maliciously. He didn't trust Keith, and Lance had a reputation for his instinct. His gut feeling was usually correct - an unwritten rule in the 99th precinct was to trust Lance's gut. It had gotten many officers out of some truly awful situations, but it was one of Lance's finer qualities that he didn't brag about, keeping quiet and reserved whenever the subject was brought up. It wasn't something that Lance would talk about, unlike his undeniable prowess with a gun, but would rather utilise and leave it a mystery as to how he acquired such a skill.

"I can help you. You got any big drug cases? I probably know the suspects. Half my sentence, and I can help you take them down." Keith's tone was flat and tired, as if he couldn't care less about what happened to him.

"Uh, no way! I'm not trusting a criminal with my cases, let alone _you_ , Kogane!" Lance pouted. Other officers suddenly burst into the room, beginning to argue with him. He argued back, defending the fact that _no, he was_ not _trusting Keith with a case of this importance_. The shouting was getting loud and animated, bouncing off the cold stone walls. It reminded Lance of the petty arguments he would have with his family, at least eleven of them arguing over what film to watch; or who would sit where in the car. It made him feel warm, but that cold, sinking feeling still lingered that his family were an ocean away - untouchable. It hurt, but it was comforting to know that they were there, in his heart.

\---

"Uh, no way! I'm not trusting a criminal with my cases, let alone _you_ , Kogane!" Keith recoiled at the venom dripping from Lance's poisonous tone. Previous conversations with Rolo came crashing back into Keith's memory like a tidal wave, conversations that would haunt him as he lived out the rest of his meaningless existence, knowing that Lance, his one true love, would never love him back.

 _"And if you think that you'll get to live out this little love story you seem to have thought out for yourselves, think again. He'll never love someone as broken as you, especially 'cause you're a criminal."_

He became so absorbed in this nightmare, imagining the inevitable, that he didn't hear other officers enter the room and begin to argue with Lance. The thoughts had overtaken all his senses; he stared despondently at his shaking hands with wide eyes.

 _Maybe it is just a stupid crush. Or a weird manifestation of Stockholm Syndrome, I dunno_ , Keith mused gloomily. The other officers entering the room failed to grab his attention, and he didn't notice the ascending volume of said officers.

"Mr. Kogane." Suddenly Keith snapped to attention, puzzled by the new-found formality that Lance - oh, wait, this wasn't Lance. It was another man, taller, with sleek black hair; apart from one tuft at the front that was shockingly white. He had narrow, but kind, dark eyes, despite his mouth being pressed in a long, straight line. His right arm had also been replaced with a prosthetic, a quality of this man that fascinated Keith. It may have had something to do with his hair, or the jagged scar that stretched across his nose. Lance continued to grumble behind his back, folding his arms angrily across his chest.

"Lance told me that you made an offer. That you had agreed to help. I've consulted Allura, the police captain, and she agrees with me that your 'offer' could be beneficial to our cause. We've already scheduled a stake out for Lance in the following weeks, where he will be watching over a suspected gang that, if we manage to get enough evidence, we will be targeting. We want you to join Lance, as we feel like your involvement in this case will result in some great consequences."

Keith shifted in his seat, not making eye contact with the officer but studying Lance's movements carefully. He held back a snort as Lance's mouth dropped open; it was obvious that he had not been consulted with the other's decision.

"What the hell, Shiro?! We _cannot_ trust this guy, I'm telling you!" Lance stepped around Shiro to look him directly in the eye, standing on his toes slightly to elevate himself to his height.

"Lance, can you be quiet? Please? This plan is going ahead, you're gonna have to deal with it if you want to solve your case." That seemed to strike a chord in Lance. He quickly quieted down.

"Mr. Kogane-" Shiro began, free of Lance's interruptions.

"Um, can you call me Keith?" he asked quietly, lowering his head slightly.

"Why should we, Mullet?" Lance said loudly, causing Shiro to sigh loudly.

"I hate being called by that. It reminds me of my father. I just... don't want to be associated with _him_ , that's all." Keith fidgeted uncomfortably, while Lance's expression remained cold and foreboding.

"Fine, _Keith_." he spat.

"Very well, Keith, if you agree, then you'll be going with Lance to a location for surveillance. You'll be staying there for about a week to watch over Lotor and his gang." Keith visibly froze at the mention of Lotor, and gritted his teeth.

"Lotor, huh? Sounds great." Keith said quietly, with a sort of anger that looked like it had been reserved for a while; a sort of anger that looked like it needed to be released.

"You know him?" Lance's voice had lost all of its previous toxicity, and he now instead sounded intrigued.

"Kind of. He always wanted to partner up, I guess, but I've never liked - or been good with people. I prefer to work alone." Keith cast his gaze over the officers, before continuing, "Not to mention that I never wanted to do this. Hell no, I got forced into it by a lousy excuse for a father."

"Why couldn't you just, I don't know, stop? From what you're telling us, it sounds like he's out of the picture." A tall, dark officer piped up from the back of the room, his orange headband standing out starkly against the dim room.

"I don't think it would be that easy, Hunk." A scrawny cop with short, tufty, sandy coloured hair and large round glasses spoke. She looked to be deep in thought, searching for answers to explain Keith's predicament.

"Exactly. My dad has his men watch me, to check I'm still 'carrying his legacy' as he puts it. He's a prick." Keith smiled bitterly, "I tried to leave by coming here - to Brooklyn - I was gonna be free to do what I wanted, to live happily, but he got them to follow me. I was trapped." Tears began to well up in Keith's eyes. Anguish that he had contained for years made itself clear, and walls that Keith had built up over many years came crashing down in a matter of seconds. He banged his fists on the table as his tears fell, fat drops that streamed down his pale cheeks and landed below him on his scarred hands. He managed to choke them back after a minute or two, gulping loudly.

"I-I'm sorry," he muttered shakily, "Can you just tell me what you gotta do so I can get it over with?"

Shiro pushed himself up to leave the room, beckoning for Lance, Hunk and the other girl - who had been referred to as a 'Pidge' - to follow. Keith intently watched as Lance politely declined and waited for the others to file out of the room, before taking up Shiro's position in front of him. From this angle, Keith could see all the features on Lance's face that he had never noticed before - small dark freckles that littered his face, seemingly arranged too perfectly. His hair was shiny, and there was a minute gap between his two front teeth - slightly obscured by smooth, plump lips. Now, it was easy for Keith to see why he had fallen for Lance; he was stunning. A natural beauty.

And Keith couldn't help but smile slightly, softly, in his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have these exact same arguments with my family lance don't be sad my dude  
> i find it easy to write for lance when he's homesick, purely because my family is the same size, if not bigger than his, so as well as lance just being a relatable character, his feelings and insecurities are relatable to me. 
> 
> oof my chapters are getting shorter and shorter. oh well, as long as i can get over 1000 words, i should be good.
> 
> check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)
> 
> my twitter: @rainylance  
> my tumblr: @its-planetonic  
> my amino (voltron, klance, hamilton): @planetonic


	4. Chapter 4

Watching Keith break down was painful. Witnessing emotions that Lance had felt before, managed to repress and keep under lock and key, simply because he didn't have the gall to talk to anyone.

He didn't want to them to think that he was the weak link.

It was hard, feeling like that. Lance wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even the most hardened criminals. He hated how it had changed him, hated what it did to his mind and his body. It had been a horrible place for Lance, awful. Times like that weren't pretty. These emotions knew which insecurities to prey on, targeting the weaknesses until the victim begged for mercy. 

They knew, they knew, _they knew_.

He wondered how it had been for Keith. No family, no friends, no one to talk to - it must have been difficult. Lance couldn't begin to imagine how hard it would've been to cope. In a sense, he admired Keith's strength and perseverance. His bravery. His beautiful, starry eyes. His resilience. He also pondered how long Keith had kept these emotions bottled up. What had they stemmed from? Had Keith always been unhappy about his situation? Lance had so many questions, maybe too many, but he kept his mouth shut, staying as silent as a snake.

Lance thought back to the times that he'd broken down. Of course, he was fortunate enough not to be in a truly awful situation like Keith, but along the way life had hit him good and hard; he'd never fully recovered from some of those incidents - they were always there at the back of his mind - a permanent reminder of his struggles and what he experienced.

_It had been weeks, maybe months, since a lead had been uncovered. By this point, Lance was desperate. His movements were lackadaisical and lethargic, but he wasn't giving up on any sliver of evidence that could lead to his rival's demise. Every passing day soon blurred into one; Lance was so exhausted that he barely had any conception of what time was and the way life moved on around him, leaving him behind._

_He had no time to admire it._

_His sole focus was his rival. And his case._

_Tap, tap, tap. Lance typed tiredly, pulling up locations for a possible raid. He wanted action. You could even go as far to say that he needed it - craved it. He yawned, watching in fascination as his tears caused the bright colours on the hazy screen to meld together, like a child's crayons abandoned aside a radiator._

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Lance rubbed his eyes vigourously and sleepily as he pored over the pages of his large case file, typing on the computer at the same time, searching for some sort of link. Anything to say that he was guilty. Suddenly, Lance's eyes widened in realisation._

_Tap! Tap! Tap! He typed furiously - a man on a mission. He was completely rid of all his previous fatigue. Lance was sure that if he went any slower then the lead would just... disappear, like a fish escaping the vice grip of a bear's jaws._

_"Guys, guys, look! I've got something! We can get 'im this time, I can feel it! Look, I'll show you!" Lance yelled with excitement, knocking his chair to the ground as he sharply stood up and waved the case file above his head. Then, he stopped abruptly. He forlornly let the file drop to his side._

_He was alone under the glare of a spotlight, a few flickering bulbs that slowly dimmed with Lance's pride. He let his gaze wander to the wide window, where the full, bright moon stood out starkly against the inky black sky. He felt that familiar, cold feeling begin to crawl up his spine, leaving him frozen, transfixed on the icy, foreboding glow of the moon. Usually that light gave comfort to Lance, but tonight it was a stark reminder and a beacon of how little he meant to his friends and colleagues._

_He felt like a seventh wheel. It hurt to feel like the seventh wheel. It was a horrible wheel to be._

_Lance didn't know when these insecurities, these worries, had started to blossom, when they began to fester or when they started to bother him. As soon as he felt like he didn't matter, or felt that he was worthless, those feelings would make themselves known, and he would put up his façade of cockiness and brashness. Crack stupid jokes - jokes that he didn't find in the slightest bit funny. Flirt with girls - girls that didn't remotely interest him. Claim to be someone he wasn't - someone who was bold, narcissistic and arrogant; maybe even rude. Only a few people could break though his mask and get to know the real Lance McClain, but somebody had yet to do that. Nobody in the city of New York had ever seen the genuine, sweet, funny Lance._

_It killed him to feel like this, especially in the middle of an important job. But he had to push through, repress the feelings - not let anyone know._

_It was a bad thing to do, but the quest for peace was one through sacrifice._

_Lance was reluctant, but ready to make that sacrifice._

Recounting memories like this made Lance proud - he liked to think that since then he had grown stronger and overcome these emotions. He knew from experience that Keith needed support, a shoulder to lean on; he was determined to be that shoulder. He didn't trust Keith, Lance was sure that he never would - but his experiences rendered him less naïve and more astute. 

The least he could do was be there for Keith, especially since he was going to be imprisoned for a large chunk of his life. It sent shivers down Lance's spine when he thought about what could happen to Keith in prison. He wanted to protect Keith for as long as possible. This week would be a great start. They could get to know each other. They could become friends... guaranteed that Keith could stick to the plan and not pull some sort of crazy scheme. 

Lance could help Keith. 

Keith could help Lance.

It would all work itself out.

It would all work.

Lance wracked his hands before opening his mouth, staring intently into those deep violet eyes that refused to meet his own. They were... _beautiful_. They looked like they could contain a galaxy and the shimmering stars that had always fascinated Lance so much.

"Hey man, listen, I'm sorry about those things I said before. I didn't know your side of the story, I made assumptions, and, I feel like I really upset you. I didn't know the reason why you were, a, uh..." Lance began, at a loss for words.

"Wanted criminal? No, it's okay, I brought this on myself. You don't need to apologise for anything." Keith smiled kindly. Suddenly Lance reached out and grabbed Keith's handcuffed hands, leaning forward so that Keith would have no choice to look him in the eye. His heart beat loudly; so loudly in fact, that it wouldn't be a surprise to him if the other boy could hear it trying to escape the confines of his body.

"I want to make this a happy week, if you get what I mean. It'll probably be your last week where you're somewhat free before you have to go to jail, but, I want to make sure it doesn't seem like work. You deserve a break." Lance bit his lip shyly, his head turned slightly away. 

_Idiot_ , he thought, _this isn't about making friends. You've got a job to do! Get your head on straight or he'll be able to dupe you right under your nose if you're not careful!_

Then, he gently wrenched his hands away from Keith's, adopting a more serious posture.

"But if you try anything, I won't shorten your sentence. Or hesitate to get you put into custody." His expression was stony. Lance needed to let Keith know that he was in charge - there was no doubt that he pitied the other boy, but in the long run Lance had a job to do and bills to pay. He wasn't gullible, there was no chance of him ever putting his faith into this guy. 

Ever.

Lance was sure of it. He wasn't an idiot.

He fumbled around with his papers and stood up, diverting his gaze away from Keith and muttering something about paperwork. And with that he left, escaping the dark aura that the room, as well as Keith, held.

\---

Keith sucked in a deep breath. He had known what Lance was going to say. It was guaranteed. All this time, he'd known what was going to be said, yet he couldn't begin to formulate a coherent response that would get his point across without revealing... too much.

"Ah, about that. I wasn't planning on pulling any stunts. I want to get out of this as soon as possible and get those slimy idiots in jail. I'd do anything to see him behind bars. He deserves it, dragging his own son into his illegal stuff!" Keith narrowed his eyes, lost in thought for a moment. Lance watched him, never responding but eyeing him up, making Keith feel hot around his collar. What he wouldn't give to be able to adjust his shirt right now.

He smiled fondly as Lance exited the room, his thoughts beginning to wander to a reality where they met under normal circumstances. He mused over whether he should've tried to steer clear of the talk about Lotor and his father, while knowing full well that he now had the power to get them locked up. He could do it. Keith could put an end to the horrors that he had been exposed to; everything that they had done to him - he could save someone else. If he could just get Lance to trust him... he shook his head and tried to focus on the positives.

Lance.

Lance!

He was spending the week with Lance! 

Keith's violet eyes shone with happiness, a sort of light that had never been seen before now visible. Was it joy, or was it relief? The relief that he was free (from his father, at least), maybe? His face radiated contentedness, now that he knew he could get his father locked up. He could get them all locked up. He'd get to experience his youth, get to experience what normal adults would've had the chance to. A vindictive streak was starting to make itself clear in Keith.

Another woman walked into the room at this moment, while Keith had been swept away by his thoughts. She was tall, and had long, silvery curls that tumbled down her back like an angelic waterfall. Her eyes shone icy blue, with strange purple flecks that glinted when she turned her head. Her uniform was pressed neatly, a polished golden badge resting above her heart that read: Captain Allura Altea. As much as she looked friendly, her stare was foreboding and stern - like it could bore holes through Keith.

"Ah, Mr. Kogane." she said flatly, her voice laden with undertones of seething anger. her perfect, pointed eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were pursed, like she was trying to stay in control of her emotions. Keith knew the struggle of that all to well - the scars that were littered over his pale, lithe body were reminders of the times he'd stepped out of line.

"He prefers Keith, Allura." The smooth, rich, comforting toes of Lance's voice drifted into the room as well as the boy himself, carrying a stack of paperwork and a novelty pen. The pen looked like it was a novelty item, a souvenir from a tourist attraction. But, from the way he placed it carefully on the desk compared to the careless manner in which he handled the paperwork, it was clear it held a lot of sentimental value to him. He handed some of the papers to Allura, who took them from him gratefully, and put the rest down on the table, before draping himself over the woman playfully.

 _Damn, he's straight_ , Keith thought, distraught.

Allura gently pushed Lance off her, giggling quietly.

 _Are they dating? I can't tell_ , Keith eyed the pair with caution, hoping, praying, that there was a different man in Allura's life. And that there was no man in Lance's life. 

Allura straightened her tie and glared haughtily at Keith. Lance was fumbling with papers, and saw this.

"Hey, be kind to the dude." he said softly, eyeing Keith up with concern - and suspicion. "His story is tragic - like, anime-level tragic." Keith struggled to keep his expression stoic with the new knowledge that Lance watched those types of shows. It just made Keith want to kiss him more.

"You're twenty years old, Lance, I don't understand how you can watch those. I thought they were for children!" Allura stifled a laugh, her guard having been let down in the presence of the other boy. Lance had this energy, this... aura surrounding him, that radiated joy and excitement. Lance had ambition, it showed with how passionate he was, with how his eyes always shone like the sun and how his mouth always hung open in a huge wide grin. You simply couldn't correlate anything negative with Lance. He was young, hungry for glory. He wanted to seize the day.

"Carpe diem..." Keith murmured quietly, remembering the phrase that his father had drilled into him over and over, a lingering memory that he tried to forget but it never quite left. Always there, always taunting him, telling him to _go back, everything would be better back in Texas. They'd take care of you, instead of hunting you. Maybe they'd let you off lightly if you went back now. No! You can't go back, Keith, not after what they've done. You'd die if you went back now. Not to mention the illegal drugs business. I can't be associating with that sort of stuff_. Keith sighed, trying to push the thoughts away. _No, I'm not going back. I won't. I don't want to see them again. Especially not_ him. 

He looked up to see Allura and Lance staring at him in silence, puzzled looks painted on their faces. Lance quickly turned his head away and his eyes darted around the room, while Allura's stare became more hardened and wary in the presence of the raven-haired rogue.

"What did you say?" Allura's tone came across as polite, but there were underlying tones of anger in her smooth, rich voice. Lance just stared on in bemusement.

"N-Nothing," Keith muttered. Allura raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but decided not to press further into the matter.

"Okay, then? So, after this, Lance will be escorting you to the location. You'll obviously have to get clothes, so you will be making stops at both yours and Lance's apartments. " Keith's stomach dropped. "You are to do as he says - he holds the power to place you in custody if he feels as though you are breaching your authority. Don't overstep your boundaries." Allura was harsh, each word stabbing Keith like it was a blade. He looked over at Lance over at Lance for some kind of support but his expression was the same - stern and relentless.

"I, uh, okay."

Allura turned on her heel and left the room, warily staring over shoulder at Keith as she went. Lance pulled a face and his eyes lit up once more. He seemed to be more relaxed now that the authoritative figure was gone. 

Keith snuck a glance at the pen that lay just in front of his fists. It was well-loved, the top end sporting a lot of bite marks and cracks in the bright plastic. In the barrel, there was a small picture, dog-eaten on the corners and faded. There were at least ten or eleven people, all sharing some sort of facial similarity to the other boy. Toothy grins, crooked noses, wide eyes, tan skin, long, lanky limbs - it was like a little piece of Lance was in all of them. They were sat on a golden beach, the blue sky framing them, with Lance sat in the middle of the large group. His eyes were squeezed shut, smiling madly, as he sat in his swimming trunks, with an arm wrapped around an older boy and on his other side, he was cradling a younger girl.

 _Ah, they must be his family_ , Keith came to the conclusion. Lance let out a small chuckle as he picked up the pen, cradling it as he admired the picture with eyes full of love and longing.

"That was an amazing day. We spent the entire day on the beach, about a week before I was due to leave for New York. We built sandcastles, surfed, had swimming races - my little cousins even buried me in the sand! And we sang, so, so much. You know that one musical? About the Jews?" Keith knew. He nodded slowly. Musicals had become like a secret coping mechanism for him throughout this entire ordeal.  
"Well, my sister was singing songs from it all day. She even managed to drag my father and my abuela into a few dance numbers." He recounted the memory fondly. Keith had to smile. Lance's expression went dark for a moment, before reverting back to how it was before. There was something wrong. Keith could sense it.

"Um, are you okay?" He asked tentatively, not wanting to upset Lance.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry about me, everything's just peachy..." Lance trailed off, the fake smile emblazoned on his face quickly fading. Keith was concerned - he knew Lance was hiding something. What it was, though, remained a mystery.

After a seemingly endless moment, Lance spoke up.

"We should, um, probably get going." His voice was thick, like he was trying to hold back tears. Keith knew the feeling all too well. He'd quickly leant how to cry silently, hide the tears, hide the pain. And it looked like Lance had learnt to do so, too. 

"Yeah." Keith's voice permeated the deafening silence. Lance stood up and uncuffed Keith's wrists, gesturing for him to stand up. He didn't bother to put the handcuffs back on - not that Keith was about to remind him. It was nice to be able to use his hands again, especially after the biting metal had rubbed his wrists raw.

Lance led Keith through the precinct. They dodged judgemental stares, quiet whispers, accusing fingers, until they made it outside. The polluted New York air was like quintessence to Keith, the feeling of freedom on his lips. They travelled in silence in Lance's battered PT Cruiser, arriving at Lance's apartment in a short amount of time. While Lance got his clothes, Keith stood and admired Lance's home. It was cosy, with plenty of souvenirs of days spent with his friends or reminders of happy memories at work. There were even more pictures of his family, all from different years and showing Lance at different ages.

When they went to Keith's apartment it was a stark opposite. It was small and dingy. There was almost nothing in it. No photos. No souvenirs, Just endless amounts of suspicious gear that Keith hated the sight of and wanted to be gone. He shoved clothes into a bag quickly, along with a sketchbook and some pencils, and bolted, wanting to leave. Not to mention that his father's 'slaves', as Keith had dubbed them, could be lurking in the shadows. He couldn't risk Lance's life. He would do anything to protect the boy he loved.

When they arrived at the location - a small apartment that overlooked a location that Keith was all too familiar with - Lance dumped his bag down and ran to the window, soaking in the watery sunlight that worked its way through the cloudy windows. There was an array of expensive equipment that was set up, that if asked, Keith wouldn't know how to work. He would stake his life on it. Carefully placing his bag down near Lance's, he hummed in approval, the small room a far cry from his own apartment. This week, Keith could leave that all behind, and look forward to the future. Look forward to this last week with Lance until he wouldn't see him for at least five years.

"Keith, look, it's Lady Liberty, you can just see her crown over that building!" Lance's enthusiastic tone and beckoning hands caught Keith's attention. He smiled fondly and made his way over to the other boy, softening in his presence and letting all his fears slide away.

Stepping into the sun, a small step, but it went a long way for Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it bad that the langst was surprisingly easy to write and extremely relatable
> 
> i'm sorry this took so long! but it's long, and now we're halfway through! this is where,, uhhhh,, the rEal action stars >;)
> 
> also keith and lance are closeted musical stans (especially hamilton [a n d f a l s e t t o s]) pry the headcanon from my cold dead hands 
> 
> also 27th august falls on a tuesday in 2019 i'm crying no (hmu if you understandeo)
> 
> i'm also real mad at how i've gotta present texas now bc he was the most wholesome, sweet dad in s6 and i want to do something to celebrate that. oh well, maybe in a... future work? ;^))) (also he's the first guy to caboodle with an alien what a dude)
> 
> check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)
> 
>  
> 
> my twitter: @rainylance  
> my tumblr: @it-was-strictly-planetonic  
> my amino (voltron, klance, hamilton): @planetonic


	5. Chapter 5

One week. Seven days.Yeah, Lance could do this. It would be bearable - Keith seemed earnest enough. He looked over at the other boy, and how his eyes had lit up for the first time since their unfortunate meeting earlier that day. Keith was admiring the city from the small window, craning his neck so as to get a better angle, and while Lance tried to concentrate on the view, he simply couldn't; wanting to watch the other boy be at peace forever.

Eventually Lance pushed himself away from the window to begin unpacking his small bag. He arranged his belongings neatly, making sure everything had a place where it could serve its purpose. The sun ducked behind the clouds, rays poking through occasionally, and birds flitted through the wiry branches and between towering buildings. The bustle of the city could be heard in the distance - most notably car horns and police sirens. No voices. Not here. Nobody came here.

Keith joined him soon after, and they settled into a comfortable, domestic silence. He unpacked quickly (quicker than Lance, anyway) and resumed his position at the window. He sat, resting his head in a hand and gazing contentedly at the skyline. So far he hadn't spoke. _Maybe he liked it that way_ , Lance thought, or _maybe it was out of habit_. He quickly pushed these disturbing thoughts out his mind. 

"Hey, Keith," Keith didn't move "do you want a drink? The guys left us some bottles." There was silence, and Lance waited with bated breath.

"No." Lance cocked his head in confusion.

"Okay..." he said, drawing out the o's "What about something to eat? You can't have eaten since this morning, dude."

"I'm good." Keith replied, answers short and curt as always. Lance was beginning to get frustrated. The other boy had to take care of himself, he was virtually skin and bones. If Lance's mother was here, she'd have piled Keith's plate high with food, and wouldn't have stopped until she was forced to. He smiled lovingly at the memory of her, pushing away the haunting pain of homesickness and replacing it with happier thoughts of Keith - no, the thoughts that he would see his family again, soon.

"Come on, man, you've gotta have _something_. Look, if you're a picky eater we'll find something. My brother Marco was and we always managed to get him to eat-"

"I said I'm fine, Lance." Keith growled crudely, turning to face him. Lance was taken aback. A stunned silence hung over the room, as Keith processed his words and recoiled in horror.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I-" He was flustered, stumbling over his words, red in the face and flailing his hands about as he tried to grasp at the right thing to say.

"No, it's fine." Lance said quietly. Maybe he should be scared of Keith. Maybe he really was capable of more than what Lance originally thought. Maybe he was a hardened criminal, dangerous, and easily able to escape the confines of this room. Lance had to step up his game, and fast. He was not letting Keith get away. And if he did escape? Lance wasn't sure whether he'd be able to live with himself.

"Hey, Lance, um, tell me about yourself. I want to get to know you, since..." Keith trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, visibly cringing at his futile attempt to rescue the conversation. It seemed to work. Lance's face lit up; excited to talk about himself. But at this moment, he found himself at a loss for words. _What did he say_? _What_ could _he say_? Lance took a deep breath and began anyway, without pausing for breath - he had always been notorious for rambling.  
"Well, for starters, you know i'm a cop. But I'm not actually American. I come from Cuba. Like Alexander Hamilton, I'm destined for great things here!" Lance laughed as Keith's eyes widened at the mention of the ten-dollar Founding Father. 

"I love to swim. And surf. My brother taught me how to do both those things. But also taught me how to cook, so I have to admit I don't trust his surfing tips at all. Adding onto that, I managed to burn pasta once." Keith snorted.

Cute, Lance thought, before immediately pushing the thoughts away.

"Uh, I play guitar. I like space. Let's see, uh, sharks are my favourite animal!" Lance grinned wildly at Keith, who was captivated by his little introduction. 

"So, what about you, Mullet? What secrets you hiding underneath that leather jacket, that, I might add, you are wearing in the middle of summer?" Lance leaned in to Keith slightly, observing how the other boy moved back slightly, but held his straight, rigid posture.

"Um, I don't know. There isn't much to tell, really. I mean, I like to draw, but that's not really interesting." Lance gestured for him to carry on.

"Uh, I like musicals. I like historical ones, about war and with forbidden relationships. I like to read. My favourite book is um, The Picture of Dorian Gray." Lance raised his eyebrows at this, remembering in eighth grade when he had to read it for a class assignment. He hadn't understood a single word - let alone been able to read the entire book. _Keith must really be smart_ , he mused.

"Keith, that's just normal. Haven't you got anything interesting at all?" Keith shook his head. Lance sighed heavily. He leaned in closer, closer, closer - until his lips brushed against Keith's ear.

"You sure?" he whispered. Keith jerked away and Lance leaned back, satisfied. The other boy still didn't speak. Lance rolled his eyes.

"If you tell me something, then I'll tell you something too. That way we're even." Keith furrowed his eyebrows, in deep thought. He looked like he was having an internal battle with himself, fighting against saying what could be right and what could be wrong. Eventually, he opened his mouth and looked Lance straight in the eye. He waited anxiously for the words that could come out of the delinquent's mouth.

"I guess, I'm gay." Lance gasped, and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't intended for it to come out that way. Keith looked away, hurt.

"I shouldn't have told you that," he muttered. He pushed himself off the chair and slunk to the other side of the room, hiding his face as he leaned against the dirty wall with its graffiti and peeling plaster. Lance had to fix this. Fast. Grasping at straws, he picked the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm bi." he exclaimed.

\---

Keith turned his head at Lance's outburst. Now _that_ caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and let his eyes wander over Lance's body, observing his body language and worried expression. And how a smooth, tanned hand hovered over the handcuffs that were clipped to his belt. Keith turned his head back again. Of course Lance didn't trust him. Who would? 

When Keith confessed his deepest, darkest secret, a million doubts ran through his head. He was fearful of Lance's response, fearful of what could happen if the situation went sour. Keith had never had anyone to confide in; despite his feelings being unrequited, he wanted Lance to be the person that he could put his full faith into.

At first glance, it had seemed that Lance wouldn't be that person. His shock, his expression, his... _reaction_ , was exactly what Keith had feared - envisioning it to be something bad.

Lance's own outburst had been a surprise to Keith. He wanted to celebrate, knowing that this was a step further to a happy life with the Cuban boy, but, Keith knew that it wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen. It shouldn't happen. 

His victory was short-lived. His walls were back up, and he was feeling the regret of trusting Lance. Even though it had taken a turn for the better, Keith still didn't feel like he could relax. _Not yet_ , he thought, _Remember what happened last time you trusted someone? They left you. And Lance will do the same. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, Keith. You've done it before, and you know the consequences_.

His internal battle continued for a few moments, and he was oblivious to his surroundings. Oblivious to the city in the distance. Oblivious to the quiet chatter that leaked from the small, old stereo. Oblivious to Lance approaching him, a look of guilt on his face. Keith managed to break away from his thoughts soon after, pulled sharply back into reality by a comforting hand on his shoulder that gently turned him around to face someone tanned, who was slightly taller than him and with brilliant, blue eyes.

"Crap, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I was just, surprised, I guess, that you'd trust me. Don't get me wrong, I'm supportive, but I think you're better off telling someone that you're closer with." Keith lowered his gaze. So they weren't close, after all.

"I don't have anyone. I thought if I confided in someone, then, I don't know, it might take away the stress of being in the closet. But I don't have anybody that would listen to me. I thought you'd be that person. Guess I was wrong." Keith said flatly. He tried not to let his voice shake, or let tears threaten to fall down his face. He saw Lance's face crease into a look of worry or regret, but chose to ignore it, instead moving to shrug the warm hand from his cold shoulder.

Now, Keith could start his journey to getting over Lance.

"No! Y-You can trust me, please trust me! You need someone, Keith, you need a friend. Let me be that friend. I can help you, a-and when you get out of prison, I'll be waiting for you. I promise." Lance was frantic now. Keith weighed his options. He didn't want his heart broken further. He thought he'd die if he felt any more pain like it. But, it would be good to have a friend.

A friend. Keith thought he'd never be able to utter those words. He smiled slightly. His posture relaxed.

"Okay." Lance breathed a huge sigh of relief and pulled Keith into a warm, comforting hug. The two boys melted in the embrace, wanting time to stand still to capture the moment forever. After a few moments, Keith gasped when Lance started to trace circles into the small of his back, and speak quietly.

"So, how long have you known, Keith?" he asked. His voice was hoarse, but almost silent.

"A month or so." Keith answered quickly - maybe too quickly. It had been much longer than a month ago.

"Who was it? Your first love?" Lance's tone was joking, but Keith panicked, trying his best to think of a convincing lie.

"Uh, I don't know." he mentally slapped for such a cowardly answer. Lance laughed, the beautiful, melodic sound ringing in Keith's ears.

"Come on, you can tell me. Y'know, trust and all that." Keith pulled his hands from Lance's hips and lightly shoved the other boy away, smiling - his cheeks dusted with a light pink. He slumped into a seat by the window and diverted his gaze away from the other achingly beautiful boy, trying to mask his embarrassment. Luckily, fate was on his side today.

"C'mon, Keith, tell me! I wanna know all the details. Did you kiss? Was he pretty? I bet he was pretty. You don't have to be ashamed of it. Ooh, when you get out, I'll find you a boyfriend!" Keith selectively ignored the last comment, heart deflating slightly. Suddenly, a figure entered the street below them, looking around furtively before ducking into the small, dilapidated shack across the street.

"Lance, quiet, it's Lotor." Lance quickly quietened and rushed over to the window, pressing some buttons on the expensive equipment and observing Lotor's movements. He began to jot some things down in a small, dog-eaten notepad. Keith smiled lovingly when he saw Lance's small and blocky scrawl - an almost stark opposite to his own tiny, loopy lettering. God, he was so in love with this boy.

"What time is it, Keith?" the raven haired boy smirked.

"Showtime." 

"Keith, this isn't the time for bad musical references, we're doing a job. What's the time?" under the serious front, Keith could easily see that Lance was smiling and trying to contain a laugh.

"Ugh, fine, it's 5:48. But you're missing out on the wildest ride I have to offer, McClain. No more good jokes for you." Lance scribbled down some more notes, before checking the window once more and turning to Keith.

"Is that really all you have to offer? I thought you said you could draw?" Lance's wide smirk and slightly tilted head caused Keith to reel.

"I s-said I liked to draw, not t-that I can," he stuttered.

"Prove it then, Kogane." Lance ripped a piece of paper from his notebook and handed it to him, along with his pen. Keith tried to stop his hands from uncontrollably shaking when their fingertips brushed against each other's, electricity flowing through his veins at the slight and sudden contact.

Keith quickly shot a glance at the pen. It was Lance's photo pen. He smiled, unable to hold back the elatedness of being trusted with such a precious item.

Keith hunched over the page, scribbling furiously. He drew everything he held dearest to him at that moment in time. After five minutes, he was done, and there was only one radiant, smiling face on the page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hell is ten dollars good for we get given a pound and we can go to the local nisa and walk out with a magazine, ten curly-wurlys, a freddo and a tropicana and you'd still have 36p left over (i'm joking brexit is bad bc freddos are like 25p now that's bad [you only understand if you're from the british isles cause i swear freddos were like 5p at one point])
> 
> in case you're wondering, yes, i do have the page that they drew on. i'm sleep deprived and couldn't be bothered with my drawing programme, so i tired the drawing feature in keynotes on the ipad. it's bad but i have a six week holiday to find a heck to give.
> 
> https://it-was-strictly-planetonic.tumblr.com/post/176512727039/chapter-5-smooth-criminal
> 
> just copy and paste into google and hopefully it should work! cause i'm too lazy to find out how to embed links
> 
> i'm sorry this chapter took so long, but the expected wi-fi issues cropped up and i haven't had wi-fi since like, the thirteenth of july. my ipad isn't a 4g one and i'm an idiot and ran out of data on my phone, and i'm also too damn lazy to go out the house and find a place with free wi-fi. so that's why this chapter is late. feel free to point out any typos, grammatical errors, formatting errors or tell me the whole thing is bad cause honestly i'm so tired and i can't be bothered to proofread it.
> 
> the klance is coming soon, i promise. this book will only be short, i have ten chapters planned, so i think it's either the next chapter or the one after that theummmMmmMMmmMMMM aCtIon starts >:^)))
> 
> check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)
> 
>  
> 
> my twitter: @rainylance  
> my tumblr: @it-was-strictly-planetonic  
> my amino (voltron, klance, hamilton): @planetonic


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